


Roman's Week Day 1

by Xpouii



Series: Sanders Sides Smut Month 2020 [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Humiliation, Masturbation, Smut, mild gore mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27219904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xpouii/pseuds/Xpouii
Summary: Roman enjoys a bit of self-debauchery.
Series: Sanders Sides Smut Month 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987255
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Roman's Week Day 1

Roman closed the door to his room, catching his reflection in the extravagant standing mirror in the corner. He looked marvelous— _obviously_ —but something was missing. It had been a stressful day, thankless work battling with Logan and Virgil over a script, and Roman only had two ways he liked to deal with stress. He could take his sword out into the imagination and hack his way through monsters and villains until he was wet with blood and sweat, white fabric stained far beyond fixing. Touching the hilt of his sword, Roman didn’t feel the spark he was looking for, so he abandoned the idea, quickly undressing and leaving a trail of clothes to his room-sized dressing area.

Surrounded by hundreds of options, Roman moved to a white marble wardrobe, opening it to a jungle of silk, lace and leather, all smooth, soft and supple under his fingertips. His pulse quickened, but he wouldn’t— _couldn’t_ —rush. Selecting a white underbust corset with gold details, a matching g-string and garter belt, Roman set them on a chair and dressed carefully, finishing off with a pair of thigh-high white stockings and golden heels. He then moved to the vanity and did his makeup, perfect eyeliner, red and black shadow with sharp wings. Lips a sultry deep red, he smirked, “Practically perfect.”

He spent some time fussing with his hair to get it perfect before returning to the full-length mirror to admire himself head to toe, turning to the side to eye the perfect swell of his ass, accentuated by the heels. He truly was undeniably gorgeous in these clothes, all made up and making thinly-veiled bedroom eyes at his reflection. The sound of his heels on the wooden floor made him shiver as he approached the bed, climbing up and settling in his sea of throw pillows. Above him, a large mirror stretched the length of his bed, showing him every little detail of his elegant, squirming figure. It was hard to keep his composure for long, one hand traveling down to tease his cock through thin fabric, drawing out the smallest sound and a huffed, “Tease.”

There was nothing quite like the feeling of his own hands, and right now it was setting Roman’s skin on fire with lust. This is, after all, what he got all dressed up for. Even more erotic than dismantling the bodies of his enemies was debauching his own perfect image, tearing himself down from divine prince to pathetic slut. He stared up into his own eyes as he continued to tease, tracing fingertips over his thighs, stomach, pinching his nipple hard enough to make himself gasp and tracing his thumb over his painted lips. His cock was hard, but he wasn’t quite the desperate, throbbing mess he liked to be when he touched himself. Roman ran his hand up through his hair, pulling it out of place and arching his back. His calloused thumb smeared his lipstick and he whined. Deft fingers worked at his corset, tearing at the busks and freeing himself from the restrictive fabric. It was like the snap of a rubber band, broken surface tension, overflowing and rushing out of him and all of the sudden he couldn’t stop.

Roman ran his hand down to palm himself with an undeniable urgency, watching a wet spot slowly spread on the white panties as he leaked precum. He lifted his hips into his hand, whimpering for more. Roman slipped two fingers into his waiting mouth, a surrogate cock to choke on. He whined and gagged around the intrusion, arching up as he watched himself. _Take it like the bitch you are, dirty little slut, hungry little cockhound!_ Roman coughed as the fingers retreated, watching the first tears roll across his eye makeup, blurring and dragging it into red-black tear tracts that slid slow and oily just below his temples. He tossed his head, rubbing his mess of a face against the lily white pillows beneath. Roman looked back up into the mirror, one side of his face nearing the destruction he craved. He opened his mouth wide, lolling out his tongue and taking the fingers again as his other hand freed his cock from the ruined panties, spreading precum slowly down his shaft before stroking himself. His cock was straining and throbbing in his palm and he bucked up off of the bed letting out little mewls and choking sobs as he ravaged himself in the way only he was capable of.

His orgasm tore through him, drawing out a startled cry, hard enough to bring genuine ecstatic surprise to his face as he watched himself streaking his stomach and working fist with his cum. When the last, hot pearls of his pleasure had been spent, Roman slid his fingers, then his entire hand through the mess, finally pulling his fingers out of his mouth. The prince smeared his face with cum, wishing he could spit in his own face. _Disgusting, desperate cum-hungry whore._

After the tears stopped, the chest-burning struggle for breath, Roman ran his clean hand through his hair, making careful notes of his reflection. No matter what indignancy he had to face out there, nobody could tear him apart, reduce him to filth and smut like he did. Tasting himself on his lips, Roman couldn’t help but smile. He certainly was feeling better.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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